She stood staring at me, mouth agape, so I repeated myself. "No."

"Yes," she bit out, "you've said that."

This was the strangest conversation to hold with someone. Something in the way she stood with her arms across her chest made me want to reassure her.

"It is not that I don't find you beautiful—" I stopped myself short, outraged by the absurdity of it all. "Wait, I need not explain myself. The answer is no so cease to stare at me like that."

Each breath she dragged in had one unfortunate consequence—the wings dulled. They were barely moving by the time she marched past me and approached her clothes. This human instinct to seek out covering for warmth was merely a habit. It was not useful, and it certainly yielded no comfort beyond that of the mind.

Till now, I'd assumed that only the coat remained of her clothes. That was untrue, inside it, there was a thin layer woven in that she dragged out now.

A rip sounded through the night shortly after. Then another. She resembled an animal as she tore the carcass of that fur coat asunder, gutting it a second time.

Perhaps it was something I'd said. But I hadn't known how to react. As she worked, the speed of her wings waning, anger wafting off her, I tried to make sense of what was happening—more specifically—my response to her offer to start this incantation off on a gentler foot.

To put it mildly.

Nothing about her said she was one to give her affection away lightly, and yet, the subtle hint hadn't been my imagination. It certainly explained why she all but trembled as she tore the fabric apart.

I'd insulted her. She offered me her body and I'd said no. At face value, I could not trust in her words. Was this truly a new fairy queen who sought to make peace with me? To give herself over to me with no pretense or conditions? Why, when this had never happened before?

As she sat, a glow in her hand brought my attention to her. She was no proper fairy in skills and yet, she summoned light to mend her fabric. And so fine-tuned. This shocked and reminded me that this was a fairy queen, no simpleton.

The idea that she could summon a needle from her power but not warmth made me want to kick myself. She was playing a game. A stolen princess returned unharmed meant her husband would have to negotiate. One returned ravished did not.

And I'd almost fallen for it.

She stood, the dull light of the glow stone at her back, and brought a long strip of the fabric around her neck, both ends down past her chest, like a scarf. Unlike a scarf, however, she took yet another strip and secured it at the waist. After that, it was a matter of careful tugs that completed her efforts.

Now, her breasts were covered, accentuated by the fact that the fabric passed them over and frayed at the waist. A few more adjustments afforded by the needle had the ends of the scarf pulled out at the front, secured to the belt, to make a small skirts of sorts.

The function was purely aesthetics because the next shiver running through her was from the cold. Her bigger concern should have been less about her appearance and more so about the fact that her wings weren't working as I'd expected.

I opened my mouth to convey as much but she held something out to me.

"And this is yours," she said, shoving it against my stomach. As I caught hold and held it up, she continued, "I am a princess. You may be fairy king, but since I am technically the fairy queen, I am your equal. I do not think it polite to have to parade around one another naked."

Still looking down at what she'd made me, I kept my head still but slid my gaze up to meet eyes with her, certain my contempt rang through.

"I am a fairy."

"You were born human. As was I—"

"You are no more human than your half clothing hides your backside!"

She bit back a yelp.

From where did this rage stem? I did not know but I fed off it. "We are fairies, hunted by other Fae beneath us, hiding in snow and this is what concerns you?"

Her gift landed in the dirt moments later.

There was anguish in her gaze, but I did not believe it. And so I steeled myself for a fight. As expected, she picked up the fabric but simply stared down at it.

"Arrogance." The word finally left her. When her eyes settled on me, that word tumbled out of her mouth again. "Such arrogance. I made no unreasonable requests. And it took quite some time to mend this."

As her slender body trembled, I found my own contempt growing. "Your focus should be Manoj and how to bring happiness to him and him alone. Nothing more."

"I'm trying to keep us alive."

"With half clothings!"

At my demand, her mouth snapped shut.

It was her human habit, I reminded myself. Even I fell prey to it upon first forming. And even this rebirth, I'd worn trousers while before those village people. I did not even remember when I'd put it on, only that it was there when my senses came back to me.

This was a habit. But why couldn't I leave her to it?

It was harmless. And as her wings moved for a final time, I understood the cruelty. She wasn't fighting back.

A fairy's poor temperament was no secret and certainly nothing to take lightly, but a proper fairy queen should have had insults to lob my way. So why didn't she?

Instead, she cradled her gift to me close then looked down at it. When she approached this time, it was with a regal arrogance of her own.

She held it out. "It connects on one side—"

"It's a skirt," I argued.

"Nonsense. It's a kilt. I'm very limited in time and I'll admit, it's too cold to make it more detailed."

"And why do I only get a skirt?" I mocked. "Surely, my own nipples should not be left to suffer against the blistering cold."

For a moment, she considered those words then straightened up when she recognized my tease.

"I will not wear clothing," I told her, "as fairies don't need it." Not usually. But with the way her own skill was changing colors, she could more than argue that whatever fairies did to keep warm wasn't working for her. But neither would these thin fabrics.

"It's only for modesty's sake," she explained.

I leaned in, ignoring the gift still held out to me. "Modesty? We are fairies." A thought jumped into my head and simply sprang from my mouth. "Is this all because I refused to bed you?"

She leaned away, her lips pressed together before she muttered, "There's no need to bring that up. You've made your stance and I respect it."

But I could barely believe this—this—

"Once we are both dressed, it'll be easier for us to treat one another with respect."

My eyes scanned her. "But I treat you with respect now."

"But you're naked—" she argued.

"Yes. And my nakedness is rather fetching, too." Arms extended, I challenged, "You do not find all that I have to offer rather nice?" A laugh bubbled up inside me. "Is this to stave off your temptation?"

When I leaned in and nudged her, it was the wrong thing to do. She sucked in a deep breath and said, "I do not see what is so wrong with my request." She took it back and examined the fabric. "I suppose with a bit of time, I could embroider something rather sweet in it for you—"

My snatching it from her hands and throwing it into the dirt stopped her nonsensical prattle.

Her wings had stopped. Why couldn't she notice it? Why wasn't her focus there?

"We are in dire straits, Majesty. We have an army of angry Fae hunting us, I have no memories of my rebirth, you haven't the faintest idea how to use any fairy magic beyond seamstressing and we are trapped below snow! This is a useless distraction. Come to your senses!"

She stared at me, water shimmering in her eyes. For the briefest of moments, I expected those tears to shed. Instead, she stomped past me and made her way yet again to the snow wall she'd attempted to climb earlier.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Home. Away from you."

That was unlikely as the first attempt to simply jump up was fruitless.

I warned her, "You cannot go anywhere, Majesty, not until you harness enough rage to warm you up."

"I don't need rage." She made another attempt at jumping. "I don't need you, either."

When jumping didn't work, she went to the snow wall and began to climb. Moments later, she slid back down.

The frustration there worried me. She was in a temper but not the typical one of a fairy. I'd hurt her.

But I couldn't understand why or how.

Her next attempt at getting out ended in the same failure and my hearty laugh made her whip around.

"You deserve to be alone!"

Those words tore through me, but she wasn't finished.

"For centuries, one truth remains, that we are enemies. Now, for the first time, we meet on peaceful footing and have a chance at changing that—"

"There's nothing to change it," I countered, pointing out something she'd missed, "because your instinct is to cover yourself."

Though her chest still heaved from her anger, she allowed me my argument.

"Majesty, look at you. You are a fairy queen who cannot even will her wings to move? Come. This is nonsense. Your first instinct isn't even to fly from this place, it's to jump. And a jump for a fairy is easy enough to achieve with little thought."

Slowly, all the drive faded from her, and she stared at the ground.

"And even in your request from me, that is not how a fairy behaves." It was a risk, but I approached her. When the space between us closed, I explained, "A fairy queen, a fairy of any kind, knows their splendor. A rejection means nothing. In that event...." I demonstrated by stroking the bitter scowl of her check with the back of my hand. "We try a little harder." My fingers sliding down her neck down to her collar ended with me easing part of the half dress from her right shoulder. "That is a fairy's way. Not covering yourself then demanding others do the same."

Her body trembled, but I did not know the cause. Deep down, I suspected it was something emotional.

"It's not my way," she muttered.

I could see that. But I warned her, "You are not behaving like a Fae. And a fairy queen who does not serve has no use. More than likely, Manoj will deem you unworthy and take back all the power he's bestowed you."

Her gaze locked with mine. "He'd make me human again?"

No. He certainly would not. And yet, the hope there was difficult for me to dispel. The coward in me could offer no direct answer. More than likely, Manoj would do to her what he'd done to countless other fairy queens, reabsorb her and try again.

I should have said this. But as she stood there in her half dress, peering up at me, body still fatigued from all failed attempts at climbing out, I found myself holding her face in assurance instead.

Her lips parted for me, but I did not falter.

"Come. I shall help you up."